


Is This The Place That We've Been Dreaming Of?

by MaggicSorceress



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Reaper is always baby in everything i write idk why, Red String of Fate, Touch-Starved? I don't know her, but Reaper sure does
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:46:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26902342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaggicSorceress/pseuds/MaggicSorceress
Summary: Fate was an exceptionally cruel person...For Death should not have possessed such a string.
Relationships: AfterDeath - Relationship, Geno/Reaper, Reaper & Life, Reaper/Geno, Sans/Sans (Undertale)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 67





	Is This The Place That We've Been Dreaming Of?

**Author's Note:**

> "There are no happy endings.  
> Endings are the saddest part,  
> So just give me a happy middle  
> And a very happy start."  
> -Shel Silverstein

**_I walked across an empty land_ **

Death had a strange relationship with Fate.

They were technically the only reason he had a job, as they were the one who decided who he would ‘pay a visit to’, but that didn’t mean he had to like them, even if they were technically his boss.

Fate was a cruel, cruel bastard, and he wasn’t just saying that because he hated his job.

There was a common thing that all mortals shared, a string that ran from one person to another. There were many strings, often Death thought mortals looked somewhat like puppets, but the specific string he was talking about was red.

Red and long, sometimes twisted or tangled, it occasionally spanned the whole of the globe or split from one string into two. This string connected soulmates, two people who were destined by Fate to be together, to be the perfect match, and to love each other unconditionally. Death was well aware of the string, and the softer side of him ached every time his job called him to split apart a pair. Somehow, the heartbreak felt familiar.

But this?

This was an especially cruel joke.

**_I knew the pathway like the back of my hand_ **

Gods tended to not have a red string, as they were immortal and such relationships were unnecessary to do their jobs. So, why…

“Death.” Fate greeted before he had even stepped into the room where they worked. Strings stretched out around them for miles.

“You’re a cruel deity, Fate.” Death said, his voice soft, hauntingly so, like an autumn breeze.

“Indeed, I am.” Fate agreed. “I see you’ve finally realised.”

Hovering scarce inches above the ground, black cloak billowing in the air around him despite the lack of wind, he clutched at his left hand and threaded his fingers together. He levelled a glare at Fate with empty eyes and ran a thumb over the thin, red string that was twisted around his ring finger. It had appeared yesterday.

“Are you going to ask your question?” Fate asked as they took an elegant pair of silver sheers and cut one of the strings that surrounded them.

“Cut it off.” Death said. “I don’t want it.”

Fate blinked and finally raised their head from their work. “You would subject your soulmate to that? To a life of loneliness and heartbreak?”

**_I felt the earth beneath my feet_ **

_‘No…’_ Death’s thoughts begged.

“I’d rather subject them to that.” Death said. “Than subject them to me.”

“They will be subjected to you one way or another.” Fate said.

Silence descended upon them, heavy and suffocating. Death felt like he was choking, torn between wanting to speak, to scream or cry, and wanting to simply melt into the floor and not exist for an undetermined amount of time.

“You can decide what you want to do about that.” Fate said, gesturing to Death’s red string. “I will not cut it, not until it is time to.”

Fate went back to their work and Death, sensing that he would be getting nowhere with the current conversation, turned and left the room, misery hanging heavy in the air around him. His jumbled thoughts led him somewhere he hadn’t been in quite a while, tugging him towards it like the invisible thread that guided him to do his job. Where he ended up was far more pleasant, however.

**_Sat by the river, and it made me complete_ **

The air was warm and slightly humid, it hung thick and perfumed, almost sickeningly sweet if not for the scent of fresh rain. As he made his way into the garden, from cold stone ground to lush green grass, he raised himself higher in the air, floating above the plant life. Death left no trace that he was there as he drifted further into the garden. He reached an alcove surrounded by twisting trees that bore fruit he had never seen, and flowers so large the petals could hide his face with ease. It was here he floated, legs crossed under him in the air, and thought, twirling the thin red strand around a finger. So lost in his thoughts, ones that never seemed to go anywhere, that he didn’t hear the rustling of brush as the garden’s owner wandered through the trees and flowers.

She walked with a light gait, a beautiful green and gold summer dress flowed with her movements. Her hair was rich as earth, a deep, layered brown, and it was pulled into a heavy braid that hung over her shoulder. She held a woven basket overflowing with fruit in one hand and almost dropped it in surprise when she saw his figure sitting peacefully in the air.

**_Oh, simple thing_ **

“Oh! I didn’t notice you came in.” She said. “It’s been quite a while since you’ve visited me.”

Death raised his head, blinking out of his thought induced daze, and gave her a small, melancholy smile.

“I missed it here, it’s so beautiful and quiet.” Death said. “I just needed to…”

“Slow down and think?” Life suggested, hands clasped in front of her.

“Yeah…”

She took a step closer to him and set down her basket. “You seem troubled, my old friend. What’s bothering you?”

“I guess I’m just…” Death said, continuing to twist his red string around his finger. “Unsure of what I should do.”

Life walked the rest of the distance towards him and sat down on the grass, only a few inches away from him, and looked up with a smile.

“Penny for your thoughts?” She asked.

**_Where have you gone?_ **

Death was unsure how to explain everything that was running through his mind, the confusion and worry, the sadness, because he knew this wouldn’t make a difference in anything, and underneath all that, a simmering hope that he was refusing to acknowledge. So, hoping to signify what he couldn’t put into words, he raised his left hand and showed Life the red string wrapped around his ring finger. Her reaction was immediate, and she raised her hands to her mouth, gasping.

“What…how…” Life breathed. “I…I don’t understand…”

“Neither do I.” Death said.

“Did you speak to Fate about this?”

“I did.”

“What did they say?”

Death sighed. “I told them to cut it, and they said they wouldn’t, and…”

“And?” Life probed.

“And now…I don’t know what to do.” Death said.

**_I’m getting old and I need something to rely on_ **

“What do you want to do?” Life asked, soft and patient.

“I don’t know.” Death mumbled as he pulled his knees to his chest. “I just…want to sleep and pretend all of this doesn’t exist.

“You’re going to have to deal with it eventually.” Life said.

“I know.”

Life sighed and got to her feet. She reached out a hand, intent on settling it on his shoulder, before she seemed to remember exactly who he was and drew it back to her chest, eyes sympathetic as she gazed up at him.

“…Don’t lose hope, okay?” Life said. “I know you don’t believe anything good will come out of this, but…don’t let your fear control you.”

Death managed a barely noticeable nod and she took his silence as her sign to leave. Walking away from her friend, Life picked up her basket of fruits and looked over her shoulder.

“I’ll be inside if you need anything or want to talk some more.” She said. Not waiting for a response, she slipped back into the treeline and disappeared.

**_So tell me when_ **

Death wasn’t sure how long he lingered in Life’s garden, thinking about everything and nothing at all. He thought about what she had told him, to not be afraid of this, but what did she mean by that? He wasn’t afraid of this…was he? Was that why he was so concerned? He didn’t believe so, he was more confused…right? Regardless, he didn’t want to spare the red string much thought. It was pointless for him to worry about it, or to try and figure out exactly _who_ was on the other end of it.

After an unsure amount of time, Death decided he should get back to work, as that was much more productive than…whatever the hell he was currently doing. He drifted slowly out of the garden, sparing a glance to the small cottage that sat in a far corner and the faint smell of roasting apples…

Maybe he could grab a slice before he headed out…

~

**_You’re gonna let me in_ **

For the weeks to follow, Death continued to do his job and ignore his red string, despite his inner turmoil every time he so much as glanced at the thing. The souls couldn’t wait for him to have a mental breakdown before calling insistently to him. He didn’t really mind. For once, his job was a welcome distraction.

Still…

There were nights when he’d lay, kept awake by some unknown force, and stare at the string, find himself running a finger over the soft thread as his mind went to war. He wanted, with fearful honesty, the string to mean something, for it to not just be some cruel joke, but no matter how he looked at it, how he analysed his situation, the ending was always the same.

If his soulmate wound up being a mortal, there would be no happy ending for him.

_‘But…’_ His traitorous thoughts whispered. _‘There could be a happy beginning, and a happy middle.’_

That was the first time he’d tried to cut the string with his scythe.

The first time of many, and each time, without fail, the deadly weapon slipped through the string as if it was a mere phantom.

**_I’m getting tired and I need somewhere to begin_ **

It was frustrating, and in all honesty, he was getting quite depressed over the stupid little thing.

He asked Fate to cut it again.

Fate said no.

He didn’t think it was possible to mourn someone he had yet to meet, but it seemed anything was possible.

He mourned the fate of his unknown soulmate, mourned that the life of this innocent person was tied so tightly to his own, that they would never live the life they deserved because they would be forever searching for their missing piece, for him, and he wouldn’t be there, couldn’t be there.

Death was no lover, regardless of how hopelessly romantic he may have been, and he pitied the soul he was connected to. Whoever they were, they deserved better than him.

And all of this reasoning was pointless anyway, as he killed anything he touched.

**_I came across a fallen tree_ **

It was early morning one day in early autumn when Death found himself inside a cozy coffee shop. He was disguised, of course, as a man in his late twenties with dark hair and eyes. His skin was pale, and his cloak had been traded out for a simple black hoodie and a pair of jeans. The disguise wasn’t the farthest cry from what he truly looked like, but people tended to get put off by his void-like eyes or the way his skin seemed to hold the shadows of a skeleton on it.

He stood in line, absentmindedly tapping away at the phone in his grasp as he waited his turn. Hood up, and free hand shoved into his pocket, very scarce glimpses of his skin were seen, and he intended to keep it that way, as it would be difficult to explain why someone suddenly dropped dead if he brushed knuckles with them accidentally.

“Oh…oh no I’m sorry…” Came a voice from the person in front of him.

**_I felt the branches of it looking at me_ **

Death raised his gaze from his phone to see an older lady at the till in front of him, rummaging frantically through her purse.

“I’m sorry, dearie. I really thought I would have enough change on me for a cup today…” The lady said, tucking away her purse and preparing to leave.

Without saying a word, Death reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a worn, old wallet and a ten-dollar bill, handing it to the cashier over the counter. He kept his eyes on the older woman.

“I’ve got it.” He told her. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Oh, really, I couldn’t-“

“I insist.” Death said. “It’s not a problem.”

“Are you sure?” She clarified.

Death smiled. “Of course.”

“Well, thank you very much then.” The lady said, continuing her way down the line. “You’re a very kind young man.”

**_Is this the place we used to love?_ **

_‘Young…’_ Death thought with a slight chuckle. _‘Isn’t that a lie.’_

He watched her go for a minute before he turned his focus to the man managing the cashier. Blue eyes met dark eyes and the world stopped spinning. Death couldn’t breathe, could barely think, as those eyes zeroed in on him. He froze, mouth slightly open as he tried to drink in all of the other man’s features.

The other’s hair was pale, it must’ve been bleached, for it held a beautiful white sheen that had just begun to go yellow at the roots, and a large portion of the hair was combed down to partially cover his right eye, where Death could see the slightest hint of a white bandage over the other’s eye. His skin was fair as well, but it seemed tan if he compared it to his own and it was dusted with sunspots.

Death realised he was staring a bit too long for what seemed to be a comfortable amount and, regardless of how the other man was still gawking at him, shook himself back to the present, feeling the earth being to turn again.

**_Is this the place that we’ve been dreaming of?_ **

“Uh…sorry…” Death mumbled, toying with his wallet in the pocket of his hoodie.

“It’s fine…” The man spoke. His voice was as crisp and light as spring rain, and Death found himself hard pressed to hear him speak again. “Uhm…what can I get for you?”

_‘Your number.’_

He shook the thought quickly from his head and gave the man his, quite lengthy order, chuckling a little when he had to clarify that, yes, he did want the three extra shots of espresso. His order went into the machine without a problem, and just as he was pulling out his wallet to pay for his own drink this time, the man spoke again.

“Don’t worry about that.” He said. “You bought that lady’s drink, I’ll take care of yours.”

Death balked. “Are…are you sure?”

“Yeah. It was nice of you to do, so don’t worry about it.” The man said, flashing him a smile that left him momentarily fumbling. “Can I get your name?”

“Th-thanks.” Death stumbled, cursing himself as he did. “And my name’s Reaper.”

The man raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yep. Don’t ask, my parent’s like weird names.”

The man chuckled as he wrote his name on the cup and passed it along to another barista.

“Alright then.” He said. “Have a nice day, Reaper.”

Death only had to wait a few minutes for his coffee, and just before he left, he managed to glimpse the other’s name tag.

_Geno._

**_Oh, simple thing_ **

He was busy for a long while after that encounter, but dear _lord_ did he want to go back to that coffee shop.

Geno…

God’s even the man’s name was beautiful to hear in his mind. His face haunted him throughout the days, he saw his eyes in the blue flowers of Life’s garden, and it was only when this strange infatuation began lasting for over a week that he thought to wonder _why._

His curiosity, and his unexplainable want to see the other man again, drove him to ditch work for an hour and go visit the coffee shop again. Getting another cup of coffee was also a great incentive for him to go if anyone asked.

He landed behind the establishment, dark wings retreating into the darkness of a cloak that soon became, yet again, the same hoodie and jeans. Death pulled the hood of it up, hands in his pockets, as he wandered into the coffee shop.

**_Where have you gone?_ **

It was strangely quiet for a weekday, but Death found himself thankful for that. He was also thankful that the very person who had been occupying so much of his brain space was currently there, working dutifully at an espresso machine. Something in his chest fluttered at the sight, and he quickly made his way across the shop and up to the counter. Geno looked up at him, froze for a moment, and then smiled pleasantly. Death felt slightly pleased for having garnered such a reaction, as quick as it was.

No one had ever gawked at him before, at least, not for a good reason.

“Hi.” He greeted.

“Hi.” Geno returned. “How are you?”

It was probably just company protocol, but Death wanted to think Geno was asking from a genuine place.

“I’ve been good.” Death said. “Busy. How about you?”

“I’ve been pretty busy too.”

Unsure of where else to go with the conversation, thanks to his wonderful social skills, Death gave Geno his order, much simpler than it had been last time, and went to a counter on the opposite side to wait, pulling out his phone and trying frantically to get his thoughts in order.

**_I’m getting old and I need something to rely on_ **

He wanted to talk more with Geno, but…he had no idea what to say. What should he say?

Death looked up from his phone to the sound of frantic whispering, only to look back to his phone when he realised it was only Geno’s coworkers talking quietly at him, interrupted only a few times by Geno’s own voice, higher and whinier than normal, with an almost embarrassed twinge.

_‘Heh…’_ Death thought. _‘Cute…’_

“Reaper.” Geno called after a long moment, sliding a large paper cup across the counter to him.

“Thanks.” Death said as he picked up his drink. He sent a smile to Geno, admiring the way the other’s cheeks slowly dusted with pink before his pleasant sight was interrupted by a particularly strong call from a soul nearby. He took a sip of his drink to hide his wince and headed for the doors. “I’ll see you around.”

He was three-quarters of the way through his drink before he noticed the scribbling on the side of the cup.

_‘Hey Reaper, here’s my number. Give me a call if you want! -Geno’_

He spat out his coffee.

**_So tell me when_ **

Death stared at the number printed below the small note and blinked, barely believing what he was seeing. Sure enough, there was a string of numbers below the seemingly quickly written note and he found himself admiring the ridged way the other wrote his twos and nines. How long he stared at the note and the number, he wasn’t sure, but eventually he decided to pull out his phone and take a picture of it, so he could add the number to his phone later. Then, maybe a bit paranoid, he summoned a pen to his hand and scribbled out the number from the cup before throwing it in a nearby trashcan. He didn’t want anyone else coming across Geno’s number.

Death took the long way to where his next job called him, a little bounce in every step he took even though he didn’t need to walk. He let his disguise drop, disappearing to the mortal eye, and wandered through the city, seeing Geno’s message every time he blinked, as if it were etched onto the backs of his eyelids.

He couldn’t wait to go home for the night.

**_You’re gonna let me in_ **

Over the course of a few months, he and Geno texted regularly. To be honest, Geno did a lot more of the talking, and Death felt bad about that, but his work schedule was so ridiculous that it couldn’t be helped. He’d explained that to Geno, in the most non-descriptive way possible, and the other was incredibly understanding, because as he phrased it, ‘at least he got a text back’.

It didn’t stop Death from feeling a little guilty every time he checked his phone to find several missed messages from Geno, but it did make his metaphorical heart do a funny little jump and throb pattern to know that Geno _still_ actively texted him even if he knew he wouldn’t receive a response until much later.

Eventually, although he kind of hated to admit it, Death started slacking off. Not by a significantly large margin, there was no way he could get away with that, at least not without suffering a terrible migraine. He slacked off enough to text the other periodically during the day, and even took a few hours to stop by the coffee shop to meet up with Geno.

**_I’m getting tired and I need somewhere to begin_ **

It was on one of these meetups that the thin red thread that was wrapped around his ring finger caught his attention, as did the person it connected to…

Who sat right across from him.

He…tried to not show how affected he was by this revelation, which somehow took him this long to realise, and continued on throughout their little get-together without drawing any attention to the war going on in his mind.

“So…uhm…I’ve been meaning to ask, but I didn’t really want to come on too strong because you’re a great friend, but…” Geno was saying, cheeks an adorable shade of red that Death couldn’t help but want to memorise. “Would…do you want to go out for dinner?”

Death froze, eyes going wide as his back straightened. He could only stare blankly at Geno as his mind screamed at him, equal parts overjoyed and painfully sad.

_‘He’s asking me out…’_

**_And if you have a minute, why don’t we go_ **

“Don’t feel obligated or anything!” Geno defended. “It’s not like it would offend me or anything, I don’t really care, I just-“

“When?”

Geno blinked. “What?”

“When do you want to get dinner?” Death asked.

“Oh…uhmmm…” Geno mumbled. “Are you…free this Saturday night?”

“I can be.” Death said unable to resist being a little flirty. “For you~.”

Wonderfully, Geno’s cheeks coloured more. “Oh, be quiet!”

“I’ll meet you here then?” Death said with a chuckle. “And then we’ll go together?”

“Sounds good.” Geno said. “Is six okay?”

“Sounds perfect.”

They parted ways for the day, and Death managed to go through a few more of his work hours before everything that had happened crashed down on him and he fled to his home.

And, for the first time in nearly a millennium, Death wept.

**_Talk about it somewhere only we know?_ **

He cried because he was so _happy,_ yet he knew he shouldn’t be. He cried for Geno, and how he was his soulmate, and he cried because for once, for a reason that wasn’t negative, he loathed his entire being. It didn’t matter how _badly_ he wanted to be with Geno, either platonically or romantically, because he wasn’t built to have him.

And poor Geno…

Poor, poor Geno for being destined for him, for someone who could never love him the way he deserved.

Suddenly, Death hated himself for agreeing to a date. There would be no positive outcome anyway, even if they did get along swimmingly.

He couldn’t hold Geno’s hand, or reach out to trace the appearance of beautiful red as it coated the other’s cheek bones. He couldn’t lean in to kiss the other’s forehead when they were sitting together, or pull him to his chest and hold him like he never wanted to let go, because Death would rather pretend he didn’t care about Geno than accidentally be the reason he perished decades too soon.

And for this reason, for this cruel reality he was suddenly faced with, Death cried.

**_This could be the end of everything_ **

Death was many things, but he liked to believe that he wasn’t cruel. So, he went to the date. It wouldn’t sit well in him to leave Geno without so much as a reason or apology, or at least that’s what he told himself. It helped him give a reason to his actions that weren’t connected to the wants of his heart.

They talked and ate and laughed like this was the most natural thing in the world, even if Death flinched every time their waiter walked a bit too close or Geno’s leg accidentally brushed his own. He thanked the jeans and long-sleeved sweater he was wearing today and, when Geno’s hands fell to rest on the table-top, empty and spread, he very determinedly didn’t link their fingers together, no matter how much he wanted to.

It was beautiful torture, this lovely night, and Death didn’t know whether he wanted it to end or to sweep Geno up into the endless night and hide away from the world with him, where nothing, not their mortality or lack-there-of or their jobs and obligations, mattered and they were free to just _be_.

**_So why don’t we go_ **

Whether Geno was aware of this problem that Death was facing or not was a mystery, but when their dinner started going on late into the night and they were kicked out of the restaurant, Geno led him through the streets with a blinding grin and brilliant flush and Death didn’t have the heart, pun intended, to let the moment end.

They darted up and down the streets, through alleyways and between buildings, and Death felt more alive than he had in thousands of years. The breeze was warm against his face, his cheeks were beginning to ache from the sincerity of his grin, and he felt like a godling again, chasing ravens through an empty field without considering for a moment that this playfulness might come to an end.

Geno led him to a park on the outskirts of the city, one with sparce trees and lush grass and Death, in a moment of unawareness, almost set foot onto the grass, stopping a scarce few inches before where the cement ended. He froze, staring down at where the grass that came in contact with his aura shrivelled and turned an almost grey hue.

**_Somewhere only we know?_ **

Upon realising that he wasn’t being followed, Geno turned around and looked out at Death, smiling a shy, small thing.

“Come on!” He beckoned. Death didn’t move, just stared at Geno, hands shoved in his pockets. When he saw that he wouldn’t be followed, Geno frowned and raised an eyebrow. “Reaper?”

Death lowered his gaze back down to the ground and tried to ignore the way his hands trembled. “Sorry…I can’t.”

“’Can’t’ what?” Geno said as he made his way back to where Reaper stood. “Reaper, what’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry, Geno, I just…” Death mumbled. “I can’t do this…”

Geno’s eyes immediately softened. “Hey, listen, we don’t have to…be a thing, I mean…I’m fine with you just being my friend-“

“I _want_ to be a thing.” Death said. “But…I can’t.”

“…Why?” Geno said. “If you want to be a thing, why can’t you?”

“Because it won’t end well for us, Geno.” Death cried. “It doesn’t matter if we’re destined for each other! I’m not good for you.”

**_Somewhere only we know?_ **

Geno froze. “What do you mean…destined for each other?”

Death flinched, realising what he said, and continued to stare at the withering grass by his feet.

“It’s nothing…don’t worry about it.” He said.

“It’s not nothing.” Geno said, his blue eyes narrowing. “What are you talking about, Reaper?”

“I told you, it’s nothing.”

“It’s not! What do you mean by that, tell me?” Geno said and, in one smooth motion, yanked Death’s hand out of the pocket of his hoodie by the wrist.

Immediately, Death recoiled as if he was shot, tearing his hand out of Geno’s grasp and nearly toppling backwards with the force he exerted. Then, he watched Geno, eyes wide and horrified, expecting the other to simply keel over as his clock stopped.

To his utter bewilderment, that didn’t happen. Instead, Geno glared at him with cold eyes and folded his arms across his chest.

“You better explain.” Geno said. “I’m serious.”

**_Oh, simple thing_ **

Death stared, eyes darting between his own hand and Geno, quick and full of disbelief. When Geno only continued to stand there, glare levelled on him and waiting impatiently for an answer, Death swallowed down his gasp.

“You’re alive…” He breathed, barely a whisper. “How are you alive…?”

“Reaper what are you talking about?” Geno said. “You’re really freaking me out.”

Death shook himself from his daze. “I…I’m sorry, it was probably just a freak accident…”

Geno reached out to grab his hand again, his touch firm, as if intent on keeping Death in place.

“Talk to me!” Geno demanded. “What is going on with you?”

Death realised he should probably try to explain everything to Geno by this point, but he was far more preoccupied with something else entirely.

**_Where have you gone?_ **

_Warmth._

Geno’s hand was so incredibly _warm._ It radiated out from Geno’s palm into his own, seeping into his very _veins_ and thrumming up his arm and into his chest, where it took its place easily, spreading throughout his rib cage and making Death feel like he was lighter than he had ever been, even whilst literally floating. He could have melted, he was sure, as that warmth settled deep into his soul and chased away the chill that had plagued him all his existence.

“W-What’s that look for?” Geno sputtered, cheeks violently red, and Death only realised that his expression must have mirrored the feeling in his soul when he heard Geno’s embarrassed voice. He looked between Geno’s face and their still joined hands, giddy joy bubbling widely in his gut and tears flooding his eyes.

Geno, finally realising that he was still holding Death’s hand, tore it away with an embarrassed grumble. The noise that slipped from Death’s lips at the gesture was very near a whine as the warmth retreated, leaving behind a stream of cold in its wake.

**_I’m getting old and I need something to rely on_ **

Geno raised an eyebrow at the noise, but stubbornly folded his arms across his chest.

“What’s going on, Reaper.” Geno demanded. “Tell me. Right. Now.”

Death winced at the tone and, in an effort to not miss the warmth too desperately, shoved his hand back into his pocket.

“I’m not sure you’d believe me, even if I tried to explain.” Death said. “It’s just…too far-fetched for you to understand.”

“Try me.”

Death chuckled. “It’s going to sound crazy.”

“I don’t care.”

Heaving a sigh, Death shrugged his shoulders and decided there was no point in arguing with Geno if he had already made up his mind. The other man was just stubborn like that.

“I am the metaphysical personification of death.” Death said. “Or, as you mortals are known to so lovingly address me, the Grim Reaper.”

Geno blinked at him for a solid minute before he rolled his eyes.

“Ha, ha.” Geno said, voice void of any humour. “You’re very funny.”

“I’m serious.”

“Sure you are.”

“I told you, you wouldn’t believe me.”

**_So tell me when_ **

“Of _course_ I don’t.” Geno said. “What you’re talking about, it’s…impossible.”

“What makes you say that?” Death asked.

“Because it just is.”

“Okay.” Death said, chuckling again. “What should I do to prove you otherwise?”

“I’m not going to ask you to murder someone.” Geno deadpanned.

Death thought for a moment, humming to himself. Eventually, he decided on the easiest way to prove who he was and let his disguise fall. His long black cloak replaced the jeans and hoodie, fluttering around him, and his shoes disappeared, leaving his feet bare. His skin lost its healthy pink glow, becoming pale as ivory and stretching taught across his nose, cheekbones, and under his eyes. Life often wondered how he could eat three of her pies by himself and still never fill out, but he just assumed it was an effect of his magic. He was simply made to look like a walking corpse, although he didn’t decay.

“Is this enough proof for you?” Death asked, purposefully letting his voice echo and reverberate in a way that could only be described as chilling. Geno stared.

**_You’re gonna let me in_ **

“I…have no idea how you did that, but it still doesn’t prove anything.” Geno said, stubborn as ever. “You just look like all the stereotypical descriptions of death.”

“I can’t really choose what I look like.” Death said. “I appear in the form that mortals are more familiar with.”

He thought about how else he could prove that he was being honest to Geno, and floated over the grass, unintentionally startling the other so badly he let out a yelp. Death merely smiled and lowered himself to the grass, not even blinking when the second his toes made contact with the small plants they shrivelled up around him, forming an almost perfect circle.

“How about now?” He asked Geno.

Geno, staring with wide, frightened eyes, gave a shaky nod. “I…yeah, I think I understand now.”

Sensing the fear that Geno was radiating, and feeling rather guilty and horrible about being the cause of it, Death pulled his legs up beneath him and sat in the air, keeping as much distance between them as possible.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Death said, voice soft. “Do you understand why I reacted the way I did when you grabbed my wrist like that, Geno? Everything I touch dies. I…I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I killed you because I was too mesmerised by you to say no to a date.”

**_I’m getting tired and I need somewhere to begin_ **

_“M-mesmerised?”_ Geno said, colour rising quickly to his cheeks as he hid his mouth beneath the soft red scarf he wore. “Quit talking like that, you idiot.”

“Why?” Death asked, tilting his head. “It’s true.”

“No it isn’t!” Geno said. “I’m about as plain and boring as you can get.”

“Untrue, you’re having a conversation with Death about how mesmerising he finds you.” Death teased. “Which is pretty unordinary, all things considered.”

Geno grumbled something unsavoury into the fabric of his scarf before his furrowed brows softened and he grew contemplative.

“…It must be lonely.” Geno said after a long moment of silence. “To never be able to get close to anyone. To never be able to touch or…be touched.”

Death gave a melancholy smile. “…It is. I won’t lie to you. I’m sorry I didn’t bring this up sooner, I really should have but…” He took a breath. “Regardless of whatever else I feel for you, first and foremost, you’re my friend and I didn’t want to lose you. It’s…selfish of me to even entertain thoughts of you being with me. I can’t give you a happy ending, Geno.”

**_And if you have a minute, why don’t we go_ **

Geno thought over Death’s words with a speed that he would later chastise himself for, and walked the miles towards where the Grim Reaper floated. He reached out and gently, hesitantly, took the hands that were folded across Death’s lap, holding them in his own. The other’s hands were cold, that much Geno was expecting, but Death’s hands were also surprisingly thin and rather dainty looking, his fingers long and bony, and they trembled within his grasp. Geno smiled as he collected himself and looked up into the swirling all-black pools of Death’s eyes.

“On the contrary, I think I’ll have the happiest ending of them all.” Geno said, voice soft and laced with a warmth he couldn’t remember ever possessing, yet it filled him to the brim as he stared up at Death. “Because even when I’m gone, even when I’m dead, I’ll be with you, _Death._ ”

Death blinked at him and, almost painfully slowly, stretched out his legs and made contact with the earth again. When he was grounded, and Geno had yet to release his hold on his hands, Death smiled, warm and soft and so real that it make his nose and the corners of his eyes crinkle, and even though Death’s hands were cold, the warmth in his gaze soothed away any of the seeping chill in Geno’s arms.

**_Talk about it somewhere only we know?_ **

“Are you sure?” Death asked, hesitant and unsure. “I don’t want to subject you to that, I’m bound to leave you lonely at some point.”

“I’m sure.” Geno said. Gritting his teeth and blushing, he forced himself to continue. “Besides, I want to be with you, so I don’t care if I have to wait sometimes.”

He was expecting Death’s overjoyed grin, but he was not expecting the…god?...to lift him up into his arms and spin them around in a flutter of black cloth and a long red scarf. Surprised, he flailed for a moment, hands flinging down to grab at any part of the other he could reach, which wound up being the hood of his cloak.

“What are you doing, you moron?” Geno said. “Put me down!”

“Sorry! Sorry!” Death said through a wave of laughter, setting Geno back onto the ground. “I’m just so happy!”

**_This could be the end of everything_ **

Geno grumbled to himself, arms crossed over his chest, but his pouting only lasted until he noticed the blindingly brilliant smile Death was sending his way. Fighting the way his lips twitched upwards into a smile, he reached out to take one of Death’s hands again, finding the coolness of his palms welcome against the warmth surging in his face.

He backed up slowly, dragging Death along with him further into the park. The grass died beneath Death’s steps, but Geno was captivated by the trail it formed, like someone had taken a bucket of weedkiller and dragged it along behind them as they walked through the greenery.

“Geno?” Death asked. “What are you doing?”

“Going for a walk with you.” Geno said, shrugging. “Is there a problem?”

“The grass…”

“It will grow back.”

**_So why don’t we go_ **

They walked, hand in hand, through the sparce dotting of oak trees, weaving around shrubs and bushes of beautiful flowers that made the night air smell faintly fragrant. The night was silent here, the only sound the chirping of crickets and the barely noticeable rustling of leaves. Geno felt light and giddy, like he was a child again and, in a moment of acting more on this strange childish nature that had overtaken him, he spun around to face Death and pulled him in close, resting his empty hand on a cloak-covered shoulder.

“What are you…” Death said, stumbling over his own feet.

“Dance with me?” Geno asked, soft and shy as the earlier feeling left him.

Death smiled fondly, giving their joined hands a squeeze and sending a fluttery feeling all the way to Geno’s chest.

“Are you sure you want to dance with Death?” Death said. Geno snorted. “Humour aside, I have no idea how to dance like this.”

“Me neither.” Geno admitted. “Do you want to just…keep walking and forget I said anything?”

**_Somewhere only we know?_ **

“No.” Death said, a note of desperation in his voice, and suddenly an arm was circling around Geno’s lower back and a cool hand was pressed beneath his shoulder blades. “I want you to stay close, it doesn’t matter if we dance or not.”

Geno hid his embarrassment by leaning further into the other, hiding his face in folds of midnight cloth near the other’s neck. He took a breath, inhaling the smell of decaying fall leaves, crisp winter wind and old wood, and drank up the smell gratefully, surprised and pleased by the scent the other carried.

“Shut up.” Geno said, muffled. “I don’t care what we do either.”

In response, Geno felt the hold around his waist tighten and Death pulled him the barest bit closer, burying his face into fluffy tufts of bleached hair and letting out a pleased hum, unconsciously beginning to sway.

“You’re so warm.” Death said. “The sun seems so cold in comparison…”

Geno bristled, embarrassment surging. “Shut up!”

**_Somewhere only we know_ **

“I’m just telling the truth! I don’t know how you do it!” Death laughed.

Geno sighed and let himself relax into the embrace, feeling more content than he had in months.

“You’re shaking.” Geno pointed out. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I just…” Death said. “This is…really, really nice and I don’t want to let go.”

“…You don’t have to…”

“Okay then, I won’t.” Death said. “You’re stuck with me from now on.”

Geno didn’t want to admit that he didn’t _mind_ that at all. Death’s embrace was comforting, melted out every ounce of tension in him, and the way they slowly seemed to sway back and forth had Geno begin to feel lulled into the space between awake and dozing off. Death began to hum, a low tune that lacked any set melody, and although Geno thought the sound might have seemed a little frightening to others, he found that he quite liked it and how it reverberated from Death’s chest into his own.

**_Somewhere only we know_ **

Death just enjoyed the moment for as long as he could, soaking in the warmth Geno provided and hoping he could keep it with him for the rest of his life. He was secretly a little glad that Geno had forgot what he had said about them being destined for each other. Red strings of fate weren’t supposed to be common knowledge to mortals after all, but honestly, he really couldn’t believe his luck. Standing in the middle of the park, with the light of the full moon shining down on them and the faint crunching of grass beneath his feet, and the warmth of Geno in his arms, Death felt so at peace, like for the first time in his million years of existence he was right where he was supposed to be. For a moment, he forgot all about who he was.

Maybe Fate wasn’t so cruel after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Ooof this is one of the longest one-shots I've written to date but I have no regrets  
> Here's some more angsty AfterDeath for y'all! Cause I enjoy making Reaper suffer, but I'm a sucker for fluff XD  
> The song I used in this fic is called 'Somewhere Only We Know' by Keane  
> Hope you guys liked it! Comments and kudos are always lovely to see! <3 <3 <3  
> -Maggic


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